Break Free
by ProtegoNox
Summary: [OC]Mina Champlain doesn't lose control anymore, but it's tough. Harder yet, she has to put into practice what she learned, all the while helping Harry through the Tournament and being a typical teenger. Troubles lie ahead.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.: **_I'm baaaaack! I know, it's all very exciting. I apologize to all for the delay. Summer is really not the best time to be creative, and I finally got my 'net in Ottawa (today!) which is absolutely fantastic. Welcome new and old to the story of Adamina Champlain! This story follows the course of **The Goblet of Fire**, and is the sequel to the fanfic Don't Lose Control. Big huge thanks to JO, the most wonderful and supportive friend and beta._

**Disclaimer:** _The Characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted on this website are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. But, as usual, the plotline is entirely mine._

* * *

Before you get your hopes up, I never meant to write to you again. I'll admit my last letter was a little over-the-top, but if you remember the date... well, then you'd understand, if you remember anything at all.

Seeing as I didn't get that last letter back, I figured I'd keep writing. Who knows? Maybe I'm finally getting through to you. As the Muggles say, alleluia!

Anyway, I'm cutting things short for now. I've just spent an hour opening up to a therapist and I'm done talking about my life and 'how I feel about that'. Once you're done reading, you reply to my letter.

Just in case you needed reminding.

* * *

My third year at Hogwarts over, I learned fairly bad news as soon as I sat in my parents' Muggle car. My grandmother was on her way to England to get guardianship. Yippee. I got home, unpacked and plopped on my bed. Mom and Dad interrupted my sulking. 

"Pack up, pumpkin, our plane leaves at dawn," grinned Dad, hiding something behind his back.

I sat up, staring at them. "What?"

"We're going to France. Pack your essentials then come down for supper," answered Mom excitedly. Dad showed me three long envelopes containing plane tickets.

I spent two weeks with my parents visiting the south of France.

As soon as we returned to London, a Ministry owl from the Welfare for Young Witches and Wizards flew into our kitchen window. It was to inform us our examination was to begin the next day at noon. For the first three days of examination, I had to be out of the house. Mom ushered me into my room to unpack while Dad and her made arrangements for me. I put my things away haphazardly and hurried back downstairs.

"You're going to the Burrow tomorrow morning," Dad said, rubbing his eyes. I nodded.

"Don't leave anything until the last minute, pumpkin," said Mom, running her fingers through my dirty blond hair. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply to calm myself.

"Don't you dare," he warned.

"Especially since we weren't prepared," Mom said sternly. "You know better now, thanks to Remus."

I grinned sheepishly at them. About three days into our vacation, Professor Lupin - or, well, he wanted me to call him Remus, but it felt so weird - sent me a rather large tome on the Connection. He hadn't written much in his letter; just that he thought I would like it and that he hoped I would stay out of trouble. As if. I could practically hear his amused voice jumping off of the paper.

The book, a thick black leather book with yellowed pages, went into detailed descriptions of what a Connector looks like (I was happy to note I didn't have grey skin and large poisonous tusks) and how Connectors first came to be (with gruesome pictures). Those two chapters were pretty much bogus, if not a bit creepy. But the rest was very useful and interesting. Included was a short Connectors history, which agreed with everything Alcina had ever told me, and the information on how to become one, which I skipped. _What was the point?_ I had thought. _I'm already a Connector._

The best part, however, was the one on how to control yourself if you became a Connector. It spoke of 'becoming devoid of all emotions before diving into the unknown recesses of other human spirits and feelings' and mentioned something called Occlumency, which I didn't really understand. It added that to have full access into someone else's emotions, the other person had to be unsuspecting and/or open to intrusion.

Somewhere in between all that was a small section on Connecting with animals: "While it is considered impossible, Connectors with decades of practice or a natural destructive instinct will be able to get a general sense of animal feelings such as fear or hostility". Hermione was positive that it was because of this that I couldn't feel Peter's guilt while he was in rat-form, even if I assured her I had a few times, but fleetingly.

Anyway, that book became my favourite, if only, go-to reference guide for anything related to the Connection. My, uh, unusual gift had remained almost completely dormant since that day with the whole Sirius-is-innocent drama.

I owled Professor Remus -_baby steps and I'll get to just 'Remus'_- to thank him, but I wasn't graced with a reply. I wondered idly what he was up to since he left Hogwarts. I asked Mom about him during supper while Dad was out running errands.

"There's a lot to tell about Remus," she said, smiling. "He was one of my best friends. Lily and him were both the first to introduce themselves when I arrived at Hogwarts. He showed me the library," she laughed. "We studied there a lot."

"Why the library?"

"I was a Ravenclaw, pumpkin, and he was a Gryffindor."

"Oh. Did you know he was a werewolf when you were in Hogwarts?" I questioned, eating the last of my lasagna.

She bit her lip, tapping her fork on the table. "Yes," she said softly. "Lily knew too, of course. Anyone could figure it out if they paid attention." She sighed. "I never told him I knew, but I always gave him a chocolate bar the day he came back from 'visiting his sick mother'."

"Why chocolate? Because he likes it?"

"He didn't like it," she smiled, flicking her wand to send the dishes into the sink where they began to wash themselves. "Chocolate helps regain strength; being a werewolf is draining, Mina. He grew to love it, I think, since he began leaving notes saying which kind of chocolate he'd like that month."

I took out my wand and tried to remember the spell to put away dishes. Mom saw me and screamed. "What do you think you're doing?! You're going to break them!"

"Gee, Mom, thanks for the vote of confidence," I grimaced.

She sent me a pointed look over her shoulder as she put them away with a graceful flick of her wand. "You know you're not allowed to do magic."

"What the Ministry doesn't know won't hurt them."

"Mina!" she said, appalled.

"What? It's true!"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you have homework to do?"

"Mom, summer just started! I still have a month and a half for homework," I protested.

"Yes, but you're going to the Burrow for the next few days, and then you want to go to Hermione's house, and there's the Quidditch World Cup your father mentioned-"

"Look, Mom, I'll have plenty of time in between," I argued. "Besides, Dad said I could listen to the Wireless with him tonight when he gets home."

"Well, go do it now so it's done when he comes back," she replied curtly, "or no Wireless tonight."

Grumbling, I went upstairs to my room. Bobby, our house-elf, was making my bed. "Hey, Bobs," I greeted. Bobby wasn't a very young house-elf but he was very efficient. Dad inherited him when his father died. Bobby normally stayed with Mom around the shop during the day. She taught him how to knit. At first he was reluctant. Terrified, actually. He thought Mom was trying to trick him into getting clothes. She kindly explained to him that his tattered clothing disgusted her and that if he made the clothes himself, he wouldn't be freed. They got along super well after that.

"Hello, miss," he said in his squeaky voice. "I'm is betting it's homework time."

"What makes you say that?"

"From the look on miss's face. And because I can hear very good," he chuckled. Unlike most house-elves, Bobby had a pretty good grasp of basic grammar. Dad spent endless nights when he was young teaching him to speak properly. "Will I be sneaking pumpkin cookies for miss as brain food tonight?"

"Nah, but thanks anyway. Dad's bringing back some ice cream," I replied. "Did you have the time to wash my purple summer cloak?"

"Yes, miss, I did wash your little purple cloak. It is ready for you leaving to go see the bunnies."

"The bunnies?"

"Yes, yes, miss, at the Burrow," he nodded and I laughed so hard I cried, imagining the Weasleys with bunny ears and hopping around. "Is miss sure she doesn't wish brain food?" he asked, puzzled.

"No," I wheezed. "Bobs, you're such a laugh."

"Actually, miss, I'm is a house-elf," he replied in all seriousness, shutting the door on my hysterical laughter.

I ended up not doing much homework. I did finish the Potions homework in record time. However, I figured if I did some homework, Mom would let me use the Muggle phoning thing to talk to Hermione about sleeping over at her house next week. I wrote to Harry for the third time this summer; I worried about him, alone at the Dursleys'. He never wrote much, just enough to let me know he was doing alright despite the load of chores he had to do. I didn't bother writing to Ron as I was going to the Burrow the next day.

Stretching in my desk chair, I dropped my quill and looked out the window. The sun was setting and Dad still wasn't back. I frowned, wondering where he went. I had just gotten up to ask Mom when he would come home when I heard the front door slam shut. I raced down the stairs and saw him whispering quietly with Mom, who hurried into the kitchen. I hugged him.

"Hey Dad!" I laughed. "Took you long enough."

"Hey, pumpkin," he said, resting his chin on top of my head. "Have you finished your homework?"

"I did the Potions homework and started Charms, but I'm gonna need Hermione's help on it," I replied, exaggerating a little.

He seemed pleased. "Good. Help me bring the groceries to the kitchen and we'll get settled. They're airing a Wizengamot meeting tonight."

I groaned. "Dad, politics are so boring! Don't they have something about Gobstones?"

"Mina, it's very important for you to become aware of what's going on in the Wizarding World, do you understand?" he said chidingly. He relaxed when he noticed my disappointment. "If it gets too boring, we'll switch to that Quidditch program you love."

Grinning, I took the plastic bags from his hands and hurried to the kitchen.

* * *

I scooped some more ice cream into my bowl, ignoring Mom's pointed look in my direction. She hadn't listened to the Wireless with us, claiming to be behind in her bookkeeping for the shop. "So basically, Dumbledore was trying to get Fudge, our Minister for Magic, to relax his werewolf standards," I said. 

"Exactly," nodded Dad. "I think you know why Dumbledore wants that."

"For Remus?"

Mom clanged her spoon on her bowl. "Really, Mina, it's Professor Lupin," she admonished.

"No, it's Remus," I said stubbornly. "He asked me to call him Remus."

Mom groaned loudly. "Adrian, say something!"

"Why? If that's what he wants, so be it," he shrugged, winking at me. He spooned some ice cream into his mouth, glancing at Mom. "And it's not just for Remus, but for all werewolves. Dumbledore is worried about someone, who is very close to Fudge, gaining too much influence."

"Who?"

Mom glared at Dad, who hesitated before answering. "Dolores Umbridge." Mom dropped her head in her hands.

"She was that high voice wasn't she? The one who made me fall asleep because of all those long ridiculous words and all." I tried to remember where I had heard that name. "Remus doesn't like her," I said slowly, remembering what he said to me.

Mom laughed bitterly. "Who would? She's the reason he can't find work anywhere."

"What?" I asked, dumbstruck.

She stood abruptly and gathered the empty ice cream bowls with shaking hands. "Dolores Umbridge," she began, heading towards the sink, her voice strained, "is a foul wench - don't use that word, Mina - who is convinced that 'pure' is the only way for magic folk. She hates 'Dark creatures', like Remus, and half-giants like Hagrid all because their blood isn't considered pure and now she wants to-"

She let out a strangled sob, dropping the bowls into the sink. They clanged loudly, some possibly broken. Dad joined Mom near the sink and wrapped his arms around her. "Shh," he whispered.

Confused and worried, I stood as well. "What's wrong, Mom?" I asked. Tears leaked from her closed eyes as she pulled me in a tight hug. She sobbed in my hair. "Dad?"

Pressing his cheek against her hair, Dad sighed, looking at the ceiling. "Dolores Umbridge not only passed laws against werewolves and half-breeds, as she calls them, but she began a law-project for you to be kept under lock-and-key for Ministry examination."

I stared at him. "What?!?"

Mom's body trembled harder. "It-it's all v-very hushed, but Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore could be wrong, Talia," said Dad soothingly.

"B-but when is D-Dumbledore ever wrong?" she pointed out.

"I don't think it will pass if the examination with the Welfare department goes well."

I trembled and hugged them fearfully. "I don't want to be locked away, Dad."

"And you won't be. I promise."

I didn't sleep very well that night.

* * *

My eyes snapped open. Panting loudly, I wiped my hair off my sweaty forehead. 

"You alright?" asked a mop of sleep-tousled red hair.

I had arrived at the Burrow early yesterday morning. Apparently, Ginny was at the Lovegoods' house for the week. I had her room to myself, but it freaked me out. Nightmares haunted my sleep and my Silencing spells were useless. Thankfully, only Mrs. Weasley woke up. "Call it mother's intuition," she had said. She gave me a Dreamless potion despite my protests, but before sleep took me by force, I had refused to sleep by myself the next day. She said she'd figure something out. By lunchtime, she had a solution: building a tent in the living room where Ron and I could sleep together. But not like that, perverts!

I shook my head to clear it, focussing my blurry vision. "Yeah, I think so." I finally saw that the mop of red hair belonged to George, his face as white as a sheet. There was an uneasy squirming around my gut area that fervently wished it had been Ron. Ron knew I had nightmares. George didn't and I wanted to keep it that way. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"You were moving around a lot."

"That doesn't answer my question."

He chuckled quietly. "You did, but don't worry about it."

I shifted, looking for my teddy bear. "I didn't... scream or anything?"

"No, why? Do you normally scream?" he asked. I hesitated to respond. He nudged me gently. "Come on, you can tell good ol' Georgie anything you want and he won't say a word."

"Sometimes," I conceded, reaching over Ron, who slept on my other side, for my teddy. I hugged him to my chest. The teddy, that is. "Rarely, but it has happened before. Once at Hogwarts; you should have seen Lavender's face. Hermione makes sure to put a Silencing spell now. She's the only that can do it. I'm useless with it. I tried, so she wouldn't have to worry, you know? But no matter how hard I practice... I'm simply useless with Silencing spells."

He rested his head on his elbows, lazily blowing his long bangs away from his eyes. My heart fluttered. "What do you dream about when you scream?"

I looked up at the make-shift ceiling made of Chudley Cannons' sheets. I remembered bits and pieces of my nightmares. Ron, Harry and Hermione all knew about it. Harry always understood best. "Death, mostly," I admitted softly. "My parents and friends dying. The Connection in general isn't filled with good memories. I learned a lot this year. Now, I just have to use it properly." I exhaled loudly. "Then there's my grandmother. She's there sometimes. Those are the worst."

"I'd have thought the Connection ones would be worse."

"It's 'cause I don't know what to expect. Fear of the unknown, I guess."

He nodded slowly. "Was she what your dream was about?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." There was nothing more to say, really. "What's she like?"

"My grandma? Never met her. I saw her picture once, before Dad found it and burned it. She didn't look very evil. But then, what do I know? Sometimes I wonder, if she was so evil, how come my grandfather married her?"

"Love potion?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. Dad won't talk about them, but my aunt Andrea does. She doubts my grandfather's devotion to his wife was the product of a potion; she would know. She was forced into a pureblooded marriage by one." I sighed deeply. "I wish I could have met him. He died around the time I was born."

"Mum won't talk about her brothers, or how they died. Fred and I were named after them, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Well, our middle names anyway. I'm George Gideon and he's Frederick Fabian."

"Good strong names."

"I wish I could have met them, too. Sometimes Mum will say something about how much we remind her of them. But then her smile disappears and she won't say another word."

Neither of us said anything, lost in thought. I sighed to fill the silence. In truth, I liked the Burrow this quiet. It was so different from daytime; I could actually hear myself think.

I had insisted we make the tent the Muggle way, like Dad and I used to do while Mom was at the shop. Big enough for more than just Ron and I, Mrs. Weasley suggested, in a tone that was more of an order, that the twins sleep with us as well. Charlie, who was visiting from Romania, had winked at Ron. "Me thinks she's wanting to watch the two of you," the dragon-tamer snickered. Ron fumed but said nothing.

So the twins ended up joining us, which meant we were pretty loud down here, playing games and singing campfire songs (without the campfire, despite Fred and George's efforts. I told them about Hermione's talents with Bluebell flames). Eventually, Mrs. Weasley came down, rollers in her hair, dragging a sleepy Charlie behind her. She accioed his pillow and blankets and ordered him to keep an eye on us. "I don't see why," he said sleepily, his 'why' stretched by a yawn. "I could just put a Silencio around the living room, y'know."

Mrs. Weasley went livid. "Magic isn't the solution to everything, Charles Weasley! These children need to sleep!"

At which, we protested loudly. "We're not children!"

She silenced us with a single look before rounding back on Charlie. "Do you remember why you're here in the first place? This isn't a vacation!"

"Mum, I know why I'm here, but I didn't think it'd be a twenty-four hour watch job!"

Needless to say, we ended up being five instead of two in the living room tent. Charlie snored and Ron slept sprawled on his stomach. Fred was curled up in his blankets, sleeping soundly. _Probably the only time he's ever quiet,_ I thought, amused. George was awake. I briefly wondered how he slept and if I'd ever find out. I pushed that thought out of my mind because it led to... Blushing, I concentrated on the ticking of the Weasley clock. Tic, toc, tic, toc...

George brought his hands behind his head and yawned. "Can I ask you something?"

"You have my undivided attention, George," I said, smiling.

He didn't say anything. A few seconds slipped by and I wondered if he would say anything at all. I turned on my side to face him just as he spoke. "Well, I... I've got this question. You might think it's ridiculous, but I'm curious and it's been eating my insides for a while." His voice was so different than in daytime, soft, as if afraid to speak. No trace of rowdy laughter or savage jokes could be heard. I couldn't decide if I liked his voice better this way."Fred said I shouldn't ask." He paused and glanced at me. "'Course normally I'd listen to Fred, but I don't think he understood. I just... need to know, y'know?"

My heart beat sped up. No, scratch that, it was doing perfectly executed Wronski Feints, over and over again. I nodded, swallowing with difficulty. "Curiosity can be a pain in the ass."

He chuckled. "That it can. And for us Weasleys, it's especially hard to deny ourselves the chance to pry." He looked at me, eyes twinkling. "Besides, I bet that right now, I've got you dying to know what I want to ask you."

"Stop stalling and get on with it!"

He rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Well, what's the Connection like? For you, I mean."

I stared at him, my heart sinking to my stomach. I layed back down on my back, linking my fingers together over my stomach, my teddy bear tucked under my left arm. I didn't know why I was so disappointed; it's not like I had expected any actual romantic declarations. Besides, I wasn't even sure I wanted them like this, in a tent full of his brothers. _Or that I want them at all, because, you know, it'd be weird, 'cause of Ron, who's my friend and all. Yeah, that's it. It'd be too weird._

I could feel his stare on the side of my head. I swallowed hard and began to answer his question. "It's -"

"That's okay," he interrupted. "You don't have to answer, forget I asked." He turned away from me but I stopped him.

"No! No, it's alright," I breathed. "I just... I wasn't expecting-"I smiled nervously. I propped myself up on my elbow again, looking down at him. "No one's ever asked me that. To me... it's like a sixth sense, really, except I have to concentrate to use it. Like, when you squint to see the Snitch during a Quidditch game. Damn near impossible for everyone, but for a Seeker, it's kinda easy."

"How so?" he inquired. His dark blue eyes sparkled intensely. I sat up and crossed my legs, placing my teddy bear on my lap. He sat up as well, facing me, clearly amused.

"Well, if you're smiling, people can tell you're happy, right? It's basic common sense. As a Connector, I can go further and see if you're hiding some major depression issues behind that smile," I explained, "or if you really are happy. There's no hiding from me if I really want to know how you feel."

"Oooh. Sounds simple enough. So how do you do it?"

"Uh, good question. It's kinda like... uh, imagine- you're sitting in a room, reading or playing chess, and you hear someone coming and without looking up, just from the sounds that someone makes, you know who it is because of their signature sound; how they shuffle their feet, the speed they walk at. I can tell if someone -and who- is trying to sneak up on me."

"That's why we haven't been able to prank you lately," he laughed.

"Damn right," I grinned, proud of myself. "Anyway, that's probably the best way to explain it," I said. "Lupin used to tell me that if I practised, I could do it like that." I snapped my fingers. "He sent me a book on it this summer. Dead useful thing. I did it once, in Dumbledore's office. I was sitting in his office and he told me to calm down and concentrate on my mom. When I closed my eyes it was like I was there, in the living room, sitting right next to her!" I grinned, reminiscing about the first time I really Connected with Mom. "He said I wouldn't be able to Connect like that from such a distance with anyone else."

"Why not?"

"Well, the Connection is feelings, right? Emotions, that sort of thing. My mom gave birth to me and I guess that creates a unique emotional link between her and me. Am I making sense?"

"Yeah, of course you are. I'm just trying to understand it correctly."

"Take your time. It took me a while."

"Come on then, let's have a go."

"What?"

"You heard me. Get inside my head or whatever. Do your thing."

"Uh, no thanks," I said quickly.

"Why not?"

"I haven't really had a chance to practice much," I said vaguely.

"It's the perfect opportunity! I'm a willing test subject!"

"I'd rather try when I'm fully awake."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It's not fun!" I said angrily. "There is no 'fun' with the Connection! Do you even know all the things that could go wrong if I tried to Connect with you right now, what with me not being ready for it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Mina..."

"I could _kill_ you, George," I hissed. "I could make you so depressed you'd lose your will to live. I could make you relive the worse memories of your life until you decide to end it to stop your misery."

That shut him up. "You couldn't," he choked. "You wouldn't."

"I could if I lost control."

"Merlin." He swallowed hard. "Sorry, Mina."

"It's okay," I whispered, looking away. "I... I'm just not ready to try again. I've been sort of practicing with my parents, but I always chicken out. Last time... I wasn't prepared, and Ron... didn't appreciate the intrusion."

"Ron? He probably blew a fuse, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did and he was right too."

"I'm really, really sorry," he said, running his fingers through my hair.

I panicked. My heart pumped faster and blood rushed to my face.

"I don't get it," he muttered, playing with a strand of hair.

"Don't get what?" I whispered, staring at his blue eyes.

"Your hair," he said. "It's always changing. And your eyes too, sometimes they change colour."

I shrugged. "It's only showed itself recently. Mom says," my cheeks heated, "that it's because of..." I took a deep breath. "Because of puberty," I whispered, my cheeks ablaze.

George fought not to laugh, he really did, but we both knew it was a losing battle. "Puberty, eh?"

I rolled my eyes, my face on fire. "Yes."

Again, he tried keeping a serious face. He failed miserably and his mischievous grin appeared. "Any other unforeseen side effects?"

I glared at him and he guffawed loudly. We both slipped back under our blankets, laying on our backs.

I felt very sleepy. I lazily turned on my side to face George, who turned his head to face me. I poked his side and he poked my nose. I yawned and tucked my teddy safely in my arms. "Thanks for talking with me, George."

He smiled softly. "S'not a problem. G'night, Mina."

"'Night, George."

* * *

"I can't thank you enough for this." 

"Nonsense, think nothing of it. She seems to be enjoying herself, Adrian."

I opened my eyes. _Dad's here! Maybe I'll be able to go home early!_ I thought excitedly. Just as I went to stand, Ron stopped me and raised a finger to his lips.

"You're not going home until tomorrow as planned," he whispered. "Your dad's just here to make sure you're doing okay."

I grimaced then nodded to show I understood.

"She's a strong girl, Mr. Champlain. I'm here to help watch over her."

I heard my dad sigh loudly. He sounded so tired. "I just want this thing to be over with. We'll be here tomorrow morning to pick her up."

The kitchen chairs were pushed back with loud scraping noises. The twins stirred behind me. "Mr. Champlain," said Charlie, sounding hesitant, "I was wondering if Mina has nightmares often."

There was a long silence before Dad sighed again. "More often than you could possibly know, and I'm afraid it will only get worse, even though she assures me they're going away. She refuses to take potions to make them stop. Why do you ask?"

"Well, she had one last night and it seemed to be troubling her."

I sucked in a breath. Had Charlie been awake during my entire conversation with George? I had said some things I didn't want him, or many other people, to know.

"She had one the night before as well, Adrian, but I gave her a Dreamless potion that time," admitted Mrs. Weasley.

"Was she loud?"

"I'm not too sure. I was half-asleep myself. She was breathing heavily, tossing and turning. She mumbled a bit, but I couldn't understand. She smacked George in the face by accident and he woke her. I went back to sleep when he managed to calm her down."

"Damn," swore my father. "As if my mother coming into the damn picture to take her away wasn't enough, we told her about Dolores Umbridge before she left."

The kitchen fell silent. "Let me walk you out, Adrian," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "You can't be away too long during an examination."

Scuffling could be heard as Dad and Mr. Weasley left. Charlie and Mrs. Weasley remained in the kitchen and soon enough, the smell of coffee wafted into the living room.

I looked at Ron. He looked at me. "Another one?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Of the evil Grandma variety?"

"Yeah."

"I think pancakes are in order."

"I'm with you on that one. I'll wake up the twins, you go ask your mom. Remember to be nice!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm always nice," he grinned. I snorted. He stretched and crawled out of our make-shift tent.

I shook the twins forcefully. "Wha-?" was all that came out of Fred's mouth before it widened in a yawn. George didn't even move.

"C'mon, you two! Breakfast!"

Fred stretched and nudged his brother. Sighing, he leaned over.

"George!" he exclaimed in his ear.

His reaction wasn't as I expected. In fact, he hardly moved at all. "Well then," I smirked, "looks like you overestimated your waking-others skills, Fred. Anyway, breakfast should be ready soon."

"You can try waking him up. He sleeps like a rock," he said, scratching his back.

"Doubt that. He woke up last night after I slapped him in the face."

"That would do the trick. Cross your fingers for pancakes!" Fred left and I heard him whoop loudly from the kitchen.

I watched his twin as he slept and no, it wasn't in the creepy-stalker kinda way. I decided on a different tactic. I shoved him forcefully. When he didn't move, I shoved him again. He rolled over, looked me in the eye and shoved me back. He rolled back to his original position. I poked him with my index finger. Hard. "Stop that, Mina. I need my beauty sleep," he muttered.

"No amount of beauty sleep will fix the monstrosity you call your face," I laughed. I shoved him again. "Come on! Wake up, sleepy head!"

"No."

"Yes," I said loudly, accompanied by another shove.

"No."

"Yes."

"Fine," he groaned. I clapped my hands happily as he sat up. "Are you happy now?"

"Very," I nodded. "Now for pancakes! We'd better hurry or your brothers will have eaten our share."

"Pancakes?! Why didn't you say so?" He threw the covers off and dragged me into the kitchen by the wrist. I sat down between Charlie and Fred, in front of Ron. Mr. Weasley walked in as his wife set a stack of delicious pancakes on my plate.

"Smells wonderful, Molly," he smiled, kissing her cheek.

"I haven't had pancakes in forever," I said happily, taking a bite. "C'est magnifique!" I exclaimed. Cheeks full of pancake, Ron eyed me over his plate and I shrugged.

"Your father is right to be proud of your French," mused Mr. Weasley from the head of the table, the _Prophet_ in his hands. "You sound very fluent." I blushed at his praise.

"I'm not really all that good," I admitted. "I can understand it pretty well, say a couple basic things but that's pretty much it."

"You'll have to tell us all about your trip to France at dinner, dear," smiled the matriarch. "We've never been, but we took the children to Egypt last summer, did you know?"

"I did," I smiled.

"Anyway, Charlie will be taking you lot down to the river for a swim," she continued.

The Weasley children erupted in loud cheering and yeses. I, however, wasn't as enthusiastic. Model my body in a swimsuit? No thank you. My swimsuit, a dark blue one-piece, didn't leave much to the imagination, not that any swimsuit would. I wasn't comfortable with wearing a swimsuit in front of the Weasleys. None of them were fat, so they had nothing to worry about. There was also the small matter of my fear of deep water.

I squirmed in my seat. "Do we have to?" I asked.

The entire red-headed family stared at me like I had grown a second head."What?" asked Fred.

I squirmed some more, looking at the ceiling. I noticed many forks and knives stuck into the tiled ceiling. Another Weasley mystery to add to my list. "I thought that lake, just out there, would be fine, that's all," I lied.

"It's infested with Mackled Malaclaws and we can't seem to get rid of them," said Percy from the stairs. "Although if Ron hadn't fed them, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"It wasn't my fault!" said Ron angrily. "It was them!" He pointed to the twins.

"Enough, children. Eat your breakfast," said Mr. Weasley absentmindedly. "I always wondered how they got there in the first place. Malaclaws normally stick to sea areas."

Percy sat down next to George and helped himself to a generous amount of breakfast. "Good morning everyone," he said as an afterthought. A chorus of 'morning' greeted him.

Charlie leaned over towards me. "When they were 'bout six or seven, Fred and George thought it would be funny to get Ron to feed the Malaclaws every week. Every time Ron would try to feed them, they would bite him and give him a week of bad luck," he finished, laughing. Ron's face turned red next to me while the twins guffawed loudly.

Fred wiped a non-existent tear from his eye. "That was the most amazing month of my life, I think," he sighed.

"Too true, Fred, too true," agreed George.

"You'd think Ron would have learned by then not to listen to their immature suggestions," said Percy, sighing. Ron slumped in his seat and I suddenly understood why Ron thought so lowly of himself. I knew growing up with over-achieving older brothers couldn't have been easy, but apparently they were constantly putting it in his face. I glanced sympathetically at him and he simply shrugged it off. He didn't say another word for the rest of breakfast.

* * *

**A.N. 2:** _I just wanted to tell everyone I had a really hard time thinking of a good title for this, but I did come up with a poem! It's called Title Problems;_

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_I can't think of a title,_

_What about you?_

_In memory of a lazy October morning._


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: **_One of my longest chapters yet! Terribly sorry for the long wait, homework and all that jazz. Thanks to JO! Again. Thanks to Nat, too, even though you just read it and correct mini-spelling mistakes. (KIDDING! You do a fantastic job, just not as good as JO.) Finally, thanks to everyone who reviewed and awaited with baited breath._

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing, as stated in the last chapter._

* * *

The afternoon sun glared overhead and sweat began forming on my forehead. I almost looked forward to swimming in that big, deep river. Almost. 

"Don't forget your sunblock, you know how you all burn so easily," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes, Mum."

"You too, Mina," she added. "You're so pale. It'll do you good to get some sun, away from that book of yours."

I smiled sheepishly, cradling my beach bag. I hoped she didn't know I had snuck **The Hobbit** into my bag after she turned her back

"Fred, George." She glared at them. Any other words would be unnecessary. I snickered quietly and Charlie winked at me. I blushed. _He is gorgeous,_ I thought dreamily. I blushed even more. I felt like a silly teen with a stupid crush. _Wait, you ARE a silly teen with a stupid crush._ Charlie was built like Fred and George. Shorter than Ron, but stockier. His hair was short and spiky, unlike the twins, who wore theirs long enough to cover their ears.

"Honestly, Mum, you can trust us!" said Fred, appalled.

Charlie and Ron choked on their laughter and George grinned at them. "You needn't worry, really," he said.

"Just because we sometimes joke around-"

"-make a mess-"

"-switch your shampoo for a blue-dye potion-"

"-doesn't mean we're always looking for trouble."

"I need to remember to keep away from you two," said Charlie, scratching his stubbly chin.

"Molly, we need to get to Diagon Alley to get Percy some work clothes," Mr. Weasley reminded her from the living room.

"Oh, that's right, Percy's going shopping with Mummy today." The twins shared a conspiring look, each fighting a smile.

"We almost forgot. I believe we have a something for him, don't we, Fred?"

"I do believe we do, George."

Mrs. Weasley paled, and then turned a brilliant shade of red. "It had better-"

"Mum! Are you coming?"

"I'll be right there, Percy!" she shouted up the stairway. She turned back to Fred and George. "Just... take it easy, alright boys? It is Mina's last day here at the Burrow."

"Mum, don't worry yourself."

"Relax. You deserve it."

"We'll even watch over Ronniekins for you."

"Hey! Don't call me that!"

"What, Ronniekins?"

"Argh!"

"Come on you lot, let's get going," Charlie intervened.

"Have a nice day, children! And behave!" said Mrs. Weasley wearily. _Poor Mrs. Weasley, _I thought._ She must be so tired, having to look after everyone. Maybe if I just take a small peak... No! No, it's not right._

I ran to catch up to the Weasley boys. _Merlin's beard, they're all boys_, I groaned inwardly. I fell in step with Ron, although I had to walk fast to keep up with his long strides. Charlie walked on my other side. "Hasn't loosened up one bit since I left," laughed the dragon-tamer. "I thought maybe it was just because she had seven of us at home, but even now, she's still breathing down my neck."

Fred and George led the way. Ron and I watched them sniggering quietly in front of us

"What do you reckon they're up to?" I asked Ron with mild interest.

"If there's one thing I've learned about my brothers, it's that if they're up to something, I don't want to know," he shrugged.

"You got that right, brother," agreed Charlie. "I'd better make sure they're not really planning on changing Mum's shampoo into blue hair dye potion." He jogged ahead, throwing his arms around both of their necks into head locks. Ron laughed.

"Do you go swimming often?" I asked.

"We did. Now that Bill and Charlie are gone, not as much. Mum gets fussy when Ginny and I want to go swimming by ourselves," he grumbled. "Percy's always got his nose in some book and Fred and George... well, you know. It's nice having Charlie back."

"Still," I said, "it must be nice to have brothers who'll take you swimming."

"Yeah, I guess it is," he smiled slowly. "Never gets lonely at any point, and there's always something to do."

"I've always wanted siblings," I confided. "Someone to play with me when my mom and dad were busy."

"Didn't your parents want to have more children?"

"Yeah, but- well, uh, you see… yes, the thing is… it's just that... that every time Mom got pregnant..." I stumbled on the words. "She could never keep it." I sighed. "I really wanted a big brother or sister. You know, to look out for me and stuff."

"And take you swimming in rivers and lakes?" he teased.

I shivered. "At a public pool," I said. "Preferably shallow," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said hastily.

He stopped walking. "You can swim, can't you?" he frowned.

I sped up, suddenly uncomfortable. "Of course I can swim." _But I rather not._

Charlie's voice saved me from any more questions. "Last one there's a rotten dragon's egg!" he yelled. The boys took off at great speed, Ron's long legs carrying him further away from me. I didn't even try, knowing my short and stubby legs were not going to get me to the beach before any of them.

I watched them turn sharply to the right and out of sight. I followed sounds of splashing to a river. I stopped. It was a river. A big, dark, **deep** river. "Oh hell no," I breathed, dropping my bag.

The Weasleys had taken their shirts off and were currently wrestling each other into the water. Charlie hopped on the spot next to me, struggling with his right shoe. "What's the matter, love?"

I almost missed that 'love'. I calmed down instantly. _It sure sounds nice when he says that,_ I thought. I shook my head and swallowed. "How... how deep is this river, exactly?"

"Not sure. It gets deeper in the middle, o' course, but I've never really touched the bottom." He took his shirt off and threw it in the pile of other discarded shirts. I stared. _Oh, wow. Dragon-tamers sure look good without shirts._ "Oy, you idiots!" They stopped splashing each other.

"What?"

"Ever touch the bottom in the middle of the river?"

"Nay, brother."

"Can't say I have," said Ron.

"Me neither," answered Fred. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curious, is all."

"Well come on in, then!"

"It's nice and refreshing in here!"

"You've wrestled dragons, you're not afraid of a bit of water, are you?" laughed Ron.

"Afraid of water, my arse," he mumbled. "You just wait, Ron Weasley!"

With that, Charlie ran into the water, not bothering with the sunblock. In fact, none of them seemed to have bothered with it. _Their problem, not mine. I'm not their mother._

I unrolled my towel and placed it carefully next to their pile of clothing. Slipping my shorts off, I applied a thick layer of sunblock on my legs, arms and face. I put my mom's straw hat on my head and pushed my sunglasses up on my nose.

Sighing, I dug into my beach bag and plopped **The Hobbit** open. I had read a few pages, lying on my stomach, when drops of cold water fell on my back.

"Merlin, that's freezing!" I yelped, turning over. Ron laughed and shook his head like a dog. I slapped his pale leg and struggled to my feet, hugging my book to my chest.

"You're as bad as Hermione," he groaned.

"What do ya mean, 'as bad as Hermione?'"

"You're _reading._"

"Yes, I am. You're very observant."

"It's summer break, Mina. We've got all of August to do our homework. Now, put the book down and follow me calmly into the water."

"This isn't school reading, Ron. Textbooks are boring," I said, wrinkling my nose in disgust. "Only Hermione reads those for fun."

"What is it, then?" He reached for my book but I stepped back. "C'mon, Mina! What is it? Your diary?" he chuckled.

"No! I don't even have a diary," I lied.

"Liar," he answered. _Shit._ "I've seen you write in it."

"Yeah? Then what does it look like?"

"Some weird purple and green thing," he gestured vaguely. "Really girly."

I flushed, irritated. "Well, does this look purple and green to you?"

I dangled J.R.R. Tolkien's work in front of his long nose. Bad move. He jumped forward to grab it and easily plucked it out of my reach. _Damn his long arms._

"The Hobbit." He looked down at me. "What's a hobbit?"

"Ron!" yelled Charlie. "You bringing her in here or what?"

"We know you want to snog her brains out-"

"Would you mind not putting that mental image in my head, George?"

"-but we think that might put a dent in your friendship with Harry."

"That's right! Even though Mina's quite snoggable, as I'm sure Harry's told you on numerous occasions-"

"-it's always blokes before birds, brother."

Ron's face flushed and he dropped my book carelessly onto the hot sand, clenching his fists angrily. "Mina is _not_ snoggable," he yelled back.

_Ouch. There goes my ego._

Fred laughed. "Whatever you say."

"Oh, we almost forgot. It's not Mina that Ron wants to snog! It's Hermione!"

The twins wheezed with laughter as Ron raced into the water, throwing himself at his two annoying siblings.

So Ron said I wasn't snoggable. Big deal. Ron had the uncanny ability to say the most hurtful things without meaning to. I sat down on my damp towel, caressing my book inattentively. I wondered if all the boys at Hogwarts thought I was unsnoggable, and if Harry had only kissed me because he felt sorry for me.

I remained lost in thought until Charlie stood in front of me, blocking the warm sun and dripping all over my towel. I groaned. "What is it with you Weasleys?"

"We're very persistent," he smiled, sitting down next to me, fidgeting. I remained quiet, staring at the river. He sighed. "Look, I know why you're staying at the Burrow," he said quietly. "I won't pretend to understand what you're going through or how you must be feeling right now. Although I have been told you can do that." He eyed me curiously and I shrugged. "Anyway, us Weasleys do tend to be a little impulsive, but what Ron said earlier-"

"Charlie-"

"-you know he didn't mean it."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "He still said it."

"Touché," he nodded. "He's still a bit thick around girls. He'll come around."

"Thanks."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for," he nudged me. I smiled gratefully. "Anyway, why aren't you swimming with the rest of us?"

I mumbled something incoherent even I didn't understand.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," he said, fighting a grin.

"I said," I stressed, "that I'm afraid of deep water."

"Unusual, but not unheard of."

"It's stupid. I'm a good swimmer. I took lessons and everything! But I panic when I can't see or touch the bottom."

"Well, I know one way to conquer your fear." I looked at him curiously. A mischievous grin split his face and I grew afraid. As fast as a dragon, he stood up, grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder with ease. I screamed and kicked.

"Charlie, put me down this instant!"

"You have to face your fears to vanquish them!" he replied happily. I heard the four brothers laugh.

"What are you doing, Charlie?" asked Ron.

"When I told you my fear, it was not an invitation to help me!" I yelled helplessly.

"Shame," he responded, calm as could be. His feet splashed noisily in the river water. I began to panic.

"Charlie, please don't do this!"

"Sorry, can't have a Gryffindor afraid of water."

"Mina's afraid of water?"

"'Fraid so, Ron. I'm helping her out. Care to join me?"

I looked up at Ron, my wild hair obscuring my face. I pleaded with my eyes as best I could. He grinned in response. "I'd be honoured. Fred, George?"

"Do you really have to ask, Ron?" sighed Fred.

I was tossed carelessly into Charlie's strong arms. I kicked and screamed some more, repeating a loud chorus of 'no!'. A small part of me enjoyed the attention and amidst my panic, I vaguely wondered if this is what my life would have been like, had my parents had other kids.

Fred and Ron grabbed my ankles. They tickled my feet and I yelped, trying to pull away while George firmly grasped my wrists. Charlie stepped back to admire his handiwork, a broad smile on his face.

I started hyperventilating and tears burned in my eyes. I clenched my eyes shut, wiggling to get free. "On the count of three, brothers," said Charlie. In that moment, I realized that if I didn't do something drastic, anything, I was going in there. In that large, vast, deep water where unknown plants and things lurked, just waiting to latch onto my skin and drag me to the bottom. I panicked and did the only thing I could think of: I focussed on my fear and Connected with whichever Weasley was closest to my head.

I poured fear. Anger. Everything into the Connection. I was dropped into the water. I forgot to breath. George's emotions were strange. Not like Ron's, but similar. Black dots formed in front of my eyes. Bubbles swam upwards. I realized I was sinking. I felt strangely calm. I had emptied my fear into someone else for a while. It felt nice. Just to drift towards the bottom. The sun reflected beautifully on the surface. It contrasted with the blackness that was approaching. The blackness that overtook my body a few seconds later.

* * *

"I ask you to watch her for an afternoon, and you bring her back unconscious?!" 

"I don't know what happened, Mum, I swear!"

"Blackness, everywhere... dark, hiding - can't breathe, can't breathe - don't do it!"

"I don't know what to do about George, Molly."

"She might have died, you irresponsible oaf!"

"She said she was afraid, not irrational!"

"I think she might have Connected with him. We can't bring him to St. Mungo's, they'll ask too many questions."

"Her temperature's going down, Mum," said Percy, pressing his warm hand to my forehead.

"I think she's waking up!" exclaimed Ron.

I coughed, thick water dripping from the corner of my lips. My throat burned and ached. I opened my eyes and the room span. I blinked repeatedly. Mrs. Weasley's face filled my vision. "Oh! Oh, my poor Mina!" she hiccuped, pressing me against her chest. I moaned at the pain in my head and she let me down again, apologizing. Still, something didn't feel right.

"Creatures hiding... lurking where they can't be seen -can't breathe, can't breathe- don't do it!"

"For Merlin's sake, George, you _are _breathing!" hissed Fred.

Gasping, I sat up quickly and looked around for George. I saw him huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth. I hurried over to him and watched him mumble, avoiding my eyes. "Oh no, oh no, no, no, no..." I muttered quickly. "George, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do it, it just happened, I-"

"Tell us what happened, Mina," said Mr. Weasley calmly.

"I... they were going to throw me in the water, Mr. Weasley! I had to do something, I couldn't go in there! And they wouldn't listen and I couldn't think and I acted on instinct, I didn't know it would do this! I couldn't go in there, I couldn't see-"

"Mina, calm down," he said. "Try and stay with me. I think the Connection was broken when you fell unconscious, so your feelings, multiplied by your panic, are stuck in his mind and can't find their way back."

"I need to get them out of him, is that what you're saying?" I deduced uneasily.

"Yes. They were powerful when you sent them to him, but now that they can't find the Connection to get back, they're intensifying. We're not sure what will happen if they stay there any longer."

"He only started talking to himself once we got here," explained Charlie.

"He dove in there to get you out and dragged you to the beach," said Ron. "You were whiter than that Quidditch game when you fell from the stands. You still look awful. Your hair is almost blue!"

"Okay," I nodded curtly, ignoring Charlie and Ron. "Okay. I can do this. I can. I just... I just need my wand."

"Where is it?" asked Ron.

"In my beach bag," I answered, sweeping George's long hair from his eyes. "Bring the whole bag!" I added. Ron hurried into the kitchen and brought back my bag. I took out my wand.

"You don't actually need to cast a spell, do you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley worried.

"Not really," I said. "I just feel more comfortable with it. It kinda... anchors me here rather than in there." I tapped my temple. "Fred, stand behind him and Ron behind me."

"Why?" they asked.

"Just do it!" screeched Mrs. Weasley impatiently.

"Okay. Okay. Remember what Lupin said... remember the book..." I said to myself, closing my eyes.

It was easier this time. Sort of as if I already knew the way. I wondered if it would be like this every time. If I Connect once, is it always easier the second time?

My emotions took me by surprise. I was physically launched backwards into Ron. He caught me clumsily. I broke the Connection.

I shook my head to clear it, fighting to gain control of my own fear and put it away. I took a deep breath, eyes still closed. I struggled with my pounding heart. When I felt sufficiently calm, I opened my eyes and Ron immediately helped me sit up.

"Thanks," I said to him.

"Don't mention it," he shrugged.

I turned to George. He gulped huge amounts of air, Fred's hands on his shoulders. I hesitantly placed my hand on his knee. "Hey," I whispered.

He looked up at me. Suddenly, I was caught in a bone-crushing hug. I placed my hands around his waist, relieved I hadn't destroyed his mind. "I'm so sorry. We should have known, we shouldn't have forced you... It was horrible, all of it... I'm so sorry," he said quickly, still rocking back and forth. "And last night, too, when I didn't understand... I'm so sorry... how can you live with that? Always being able to do... that... but not doing it..."

I sniffed pathetically. "I could have hurt you..."

He let go of me and pressed his palms against his eyes. "We _were_ hurting you, Mina."

"You didn't mean to."

"And neither did you."

I smiled tentatively and realized we were being stared at. George stood up and offered me his hand. I took it and he pulled me up. I dusted myself off. Mrs. Weasley crushed George against her. "Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I think so. Just a little shaken, I guess. Nothing I can't handle."

"Good." She stepped back and swatted him forcefully.

"Ow!"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! All of you! Even after she told you to stop, you just had to keep going! How many times am I going to have to tell you?! 'No' means _no_!"

"That sounds awfully familiar," muttered Fred. I snorted quietly and coughed at the burn in my throat.

Mrs. Weasley continued heatedly. "As of this moment, you are all under house arrest." The boys, minus Percy, groaned. "No flying for the week-"

"What?!"

"-and you will all be given an extensive list of chores that you will complete without complaining, do I make myself clear?"

The grounded brothers nodded unhappily. "Mina, isn't that Arianell?" said Percy, pointing to the living room window. Sure enough, there was my silver owl, pecking aggressively against the window pane. He hurried to let her in and she flew directly to me, landing on my extended left arm.

"Hey there, Ari," I said softly, stroking her feathers. She ruffled them happily and stuck out her leg where a rolled parchment piece was attached. I untied it, walking into the kitchen. "Do you have anything I could feed her, Mrs. Weasley?" I asked loudly as Arianell flew onto the counter.

Mrs. Weasley followed me and took out a small pot of owl treats from a nearby cupboard. She filled a small bowl with water. "Who is it from?" she asked when I managed to open it.

"My mom," I said excitedly.

_Dear pumpkin,_

_We'll pick you up with Mr. Wilkins, the Ministry investigator, at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning. Once we pick you up, we'll head straight to the Ministry for your part of examination. Mr. Wilkins said it shouldn't take too long. Our part of the examination went well, but we'll have more of a chance to talk tomorrow over lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. I hope you're having fun at the Burrow. I know Fred and George can be a handful... Hold on a little while longer!_

_We miss you lots,_

_Mom and Dad_

_xox_

"They're picking me up at 11 tomorrow," I said, a little disappointed at the lack of news.

"Did they say how the examination went, dear?"

"Not really. Just that it went well," I answered, not masking my disappointment.

"I'm sure they wanted to tell you more," she smiled, running a soothing hand in my untied hair. She frowned. "You know, Mina, I've been meaning to talk to you about your appearance..."

"What about it?" I said defensively.

"It's not just your hair that changes now," she explained. She held up a strand of my hair and sure enough, it looked slightly tinged of blue. "Your skin colour, your eyes, your height... Have you thought about seeing a Healer? Just for a check-up," she added quickly when my eyes widened.

"I don't know," I admitted. "My hair gets really bad, but I feel fine."

She pressed her lips together but didn't say another word. She began flicking her wand to prepare dinner. "Ron!" she called.

He ran into the kitchen. "What?"

"Mina, you should get your things together tonight so you won't be rushing tomorrow morning. Ron will help you find everything."

"What?"

"Thank you, Ron, you're a dear." She patted his arm distractedly while watching the potatoes peel themselves.

* * *

"How on Earth did this get here?" Ron held up my bear from under the kitchen table. 

"Uh, I have no idea," I shrugged, taking it from him. We started up the stairs towards Ginny's room. "My things have a tendency of spreading themselves out fast."

"I'll say."

He sat on Ginny's bed while I searched for my blue and purple striped sock. "Where is that damn sock..." I muttered.

"You better not let Mum here you swear," he warned.

"Sorry," I blushed. "Bad habit. Which I probably got from you, anyway."

"Whatever. What's it look like?"

"Purple and blue stripes, goes to my knees."

"This it?" He held a long sock in one hand.

"I was looking for that!" I snatched it and stuffed it in my trunk, clicking it shut. "I'm gonna miss being here, I think." I sat at the foot of the bed, stretching my legs out next to his. "Did Hermione answer with Pig yet?"

"I dunno," he yawned. "That little bugger probably got lost on the way there. Why are you so anxious, anyway? You can use that tillyphone thing when you get home."

"Well, yeah, but I wanted to know if her parents said I could sleep over or not next week. My dad seems to think it would be a great idea to 'experience the real Muggle lifestyle'," I answered, rolling my eyes. Ron sat straighter.

"Hold on. She invited _you_ to her place?" he glared. "Why would she invite you?"

"Uh, because we're friends? Honestly Ron, I would have thought you'd have noticed that."

"What about me? And Harry?" His eyes widened. "She didn't invite Harry too, did she?"

"No, she didn't, and with good reason. Merlin Ron, don't you know anything about Muggles?" I laughed.

He clenched his fist. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a guy." His expression didn't change. "A bloke, a guy, male!"

"What's your point?"

I ran a tired hand over my face. "I can't believe I have to explain this," I sighed. "In wizarding families, it's okay if friends of the opposite sex sleep in the same house, but Muggles don't see it like that. At least, traditional Muggles anyway."

"You mean because I'm a bloke, and she's not, I can't go visit her?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"That's complete bullocks!"

I shrugged. "It's Muggle."

"But she comes over here!"

"Look, you could spend the day there, just... not the night." I shifted, hoping he'd get the point.

"Why not the –" He flushed. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Bloody Muggles."

"It's actually our fault."

"How so?"

"Well, some time way back when, wizards, and witches too, would knock on Muggles's doors during storms and such and ask for hospitality, especially if said Muggle had, say, a gorgeous daughter just waiting to be married off." He nodded slowly and I hoped I was getting the history right. "In the morning, the Muggle parents would wake to find their beautiful daughter gone, along with their mysterious guest. Made Muggles right down paranoid at the time, but now it's just tradition, really."

I said nothing more, waiting for Ron to assimilate what I told him. Eventually he shook his head and lay back down. "Bloody Muggles."

* * *

I ran into my mom's open arms, squealing happily. She laughed, pressing me close. Dad kissed the top of my head. 

"Did you have fun?" she asked.

"Did you behave?" he asked.

"Yes, and yes," I grinned. "We played lots of Quidditch the first day, and we made a tent in the living room -just like we used to, Dad, when Mom was at the shop- and we played chess - Ron is such a sore winner, you should see him, he's got the whole victory dance thing - and-"

"Ok, I get it. You had fun," smiled Mom. "Where's your trunk?"

"Up in Ginny's room. I was helping Ron with his chores."

"Oh, I almost forgot about them. Mina, would you mind calling the boys in for lunch?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Uh..."

"Thanks, dear. Will you join us for lunch?" she said, addressing my parents.

"Unfortunately, they need to bring young Adamina to the Ministry for the last part of examination," answered a small voice from behind my parents. They stepped aside to let a tiny, skinny man with light brown hair into the kitchen. He pushed his small glasses up his small flat nose.

"Of course," said Mrs. Weasley uneasily. "And you are...?"

"Mr. Wilkins," he said, shaking her hand, then Mr. Weasley's. He smiled, revealing two large front teeth. I tried not to giggle. He looked like a rabbit. "Jonathan Wilkins, from the Examination department at Young Witches and Wizards Welfare."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wilkins," said Mr. Weasley, smiling kindly. "I believe your department is on the same level as the Department for International Cooperation, where my son Percy will be working as of Monday."

"Good for him, good for him. The Ministry is the best place to work, I always say."

"Well, in that case... I'll get the boys, Mina, so they can say goodbye."

"'Kay."

"Why don't you go get your things?" said Mr. Weasley.

I nodded and ran up the stairs to find Ron at the top, sweeping the floor. "You leaving?" he asked.

"Yeah. The examiner is here too," I said, wrinkling my. "I don't really like him. He said we have to leave now. We can't even stay for lunch!"

"Bummer. What's he like?"

I thought about it. "Small, and a bit rabbit-like," I answered finally. "Anyway, gimme a hand with my trunk, will you?"

He leaned the broom against the wall and followed me into Ginny's room. "Is your broom still in the shed?"

"Shit, yeah. I better remember it."

"I'll get it for you while you say goodbye to everyone, if you want."

I smiled, surprised. "Yeah, that'd be great."

We trolled down the stairs with difficulty. My trunk was heavier than I remembered. Charlie, George and Fred, dirty from their outdoor chores, were standing uncomfortably in the kitchen. Mom was chatting with Mrs. Weasley while she supervised the roasting potatoes.

"Do you have everything?" she asked without turning away from the stove.

"I think so."

"If you've forgotten anything, we'll floo it over, dear."

"Thanks for having me over, Mrs. Weasley," I said. Mrs. Weasley hugged me tight.

"It was a pleasure," she replied. "You're welcome here anytime."

The twins ruffled my hair and I glared at them playfully. Charlie picked me up and twirled me, much to my surprise. "It was nice meeting you, love. You can owl me with anything, alright?"

I nodded, grinning. "Thanks. I don't promise anything. Maybe a scrap of parchment when McGonagall isn't looking."

"Mina!" said Mom, shocked.

"That's my girl," grinned Charlie, winking at me

Ron came in with my broom and handed it to me. He patted my shoulder and I rolled my eyes. "I'll owl you with details for the World Cup, 'kay?"

"Cool. Bye!" I waved, stepping into the living room. Percy was in a deep conversation with Mr. Wilkins, while Dad and Mr. Weasley talked in hushed tones. Dad looked severely unhappy. "I'm ready to go, Mom."

"Did you thank Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for having you over?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Mom."

Mr. Wilkins shook hands with Percy, who looked very pleased with himself. "Have you got everything, little missy?"

Percy shook my hand. "It was nice having you here, Mina. Hopefully you'll come again."

"There's the Quidditch Cup, Perce. I'll definitely be back."

"We have to hurry. They're expecting us for noon at Examination Cell 8," said Mr. Wilkins quickly.

"Wait, don't I get to go home first? What about my trunk?"

"We don't have time to go to your home, young lady. We mustn't be late!" he said nervously, checking his pocket watch for the fifth time.

"Here, take some Floo Powder," said Mr. Weasley. "It's easier than Apparating with luggage."

I took a pinch of the grey powder and stepped into the fireplace. "Uh, what do I say?"

"The Atrium," answered Mr. Wilkins. "Now hurry, little missy!"

I threw the Floo powder down and yelled, " The Atrium!"

As I stepped out from this new fireplace, I was thankful to be almost immune to the rapid spinning of travelling by Floo. I dragged my trunk a little further so as not to be in the way for when my parents and tiny Mr. Wilkins came through.

"This way!" he said, hurrying off towards this weird gold fountain. I hardly had time to notice the numerous fireplaces, witches and wizards appearing from this side and leaving from the other. The ceiling was a really nice shade of blue.

We were led to the security post, where a large wizard with a five o'clock shadow sat lazily registering visitor wands and writing their components. "Hey there Jonathan," he yawned. He glanced at me, intrigued. "Is that it?" he asked, pointing at me.

I glared at him. "I beg your pardon?" said my mother, indignant. My father's face struggled to remain calm.

"Yes, _she_ is the one," Mr. Wilkins answered, his gaze flickering between my parents warily.

"The Minister's been waiting for you. Said you were to go straight to Level Four when you got here."

"Very well, Eric. Register their wands and we'll go right down," he said tiredly.

"Hand 'em over," he gestured to my parents and me. They did as they were told but I hesitated.

"Come on, young lady, we don't have all day!" exclaimed Mr. Wilkins.

"It's just... well, Mr. Ollivander didn't sell this one, see, and when I had him inspect it last summer he wore dragon hide gloves..." I explained lamely. Sighing, the security wizard pulled on his pair.

"Happy?" he said, irritated.

"Sort of," I shrugged, handing him my wand.

"Your name?" he said to Mom.

"Talia Champlain."

"10 and a half inches, redwood, siren's eyelash?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your name?" he addressed Dad.

"Adrian Champlain."

"13 and a quarter inches, ash, griffin feather?"

"Correct."

"Your name?" he glanced at me curiously.

"Adamina Champlain."

"Yew, 10 and three quarter inches, Thestral hai- MERLIN'S DI-" he dropped my wand and backed away from the counter.

"What? What is it, Eric?" rushed Mr. Wilkins.

"Its wand... its wand, it's a Thestral hair," he hissed. Mr. Wilkins paled.

"_Her_ wand," I mumbled.

"Impossible," he whispered. "No one uses Thestral hair anymore, not since-"

"I'm telling you, Eric, it's Thestral hair! That's why Ollivander used dragon hide gloves! Imagine if it hadn't told me-"

"_She_! If _she_ hadn't told you! And _she_ happens to be standing right here!" I said angrily. I grabbed my wand and stuffed it in my cloak pocket. "Now can we please get going?"

"_It_'s got a bit of a temper, doesn't it?" drawled a voice behind me.

"Get lost in traffic, Lucius," said Dad as he pushed me forward.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I see," Malfoy sneered as he walked away.

"What an asshole," I muttered.

For once, Mom didn't have a fit at my language. "You got that right," she said instead.

"What's he doing here, anyway? He doesn't work at the Ministry," I answered.

"Mr. Malfoy is a friend of the Minister's," replied Mr. Wilkins softly. "He visits from time to time."

"I bet he does," whispered Dad.

The elevator rode down to Level Four, where a lady's voice announced, "Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"What are we doing here?" asked Mom. "Shouldn't we be heading to the Young Wizards and Witches Department?"

Mr. Wilkins shifted uncomfortably. "Normally, yes. But the Minister has... requested an audience with young Adamina. And the Examination rooms in our Department don't have anti-Magic wards."

"What the-" Dad began, but I cut him off.

"They're afraid, Dad," I said sadly. I looked at him. "They're afraid of what I might do. It's okay." I tried to smile, but I knew it looked pathetic. It had just hit me how much I was truly terrifying for... normal witches and wizards. I was powerful and they knew it. It scared them that I could control their emotions. Before then, I hadn't understood that they didn't know I wouldn't use it against them. They didn't know me and still, they judged me. I had a brief thought for Remus. _Now I know how he feels,_ I thought bitterly.

Mr. Wilkins seemed to hesitate to say something, but he decided against it and motioned for us to follow. I was the first to get off the lift, chin held high despite my own fear of what was waiting for me.

Mom grabbed my hand and Dad put his arm around me. I wanted to be strong for them. We got many curious looks as we passed cubicles and offices. Finally, we stepped in a white corridor. It looked sterile. We approached a white door, guarded by one large black wizard and a colourful witch, who was twirling her wand. She slouched against the wall.

"Tonks, will you stop that?" hissed the wizard. "And try to look professional. Fudge is in there."

"I know that, Kingsley, but honestly, the girl's barely fourteen," she giggled. "What is she gonna do? Throw a fit because she's got a pimple or something?"

"She's a Connector," he breathed back, trying to look as though he wasn't speaking.

"Whatever. I bet she's no more harm than a werewolf any other day than full moon," she replied bluntly, scrunching up her nose. To my surprise, her hair changed from bubble gum pink to a bright pumpkin orange. I immediately took a liking to this witch.

"You've got to be joking," sighed the man named Kinglsey. "Orange, Tonks? _Orange_?"

"What's wrong with orange?" Tonks said, indignant. _I like it,_ I thought, agreeing with her.

"Junior Auror Tonks," coughed Mr. Wilkins in his small voice, amused. She straightened out quickly. "I think Auror Shacklebolt is... simply surprised at your chosen colour."

"Sorry, Mr. Wilkins, sir," she smiled, dusting of her robes. "I thought you liked orange."

"The Minister is waiting for you inside, Mr. Wilkins," rumbled Kingsley.

"Very well, Kingsley. This could take a while. I suggest you prepare yourselves."

Tonks groaned as he opened the door and entered. Mom tugged my hand and I turned around.

"We're not to go in with you, pumpkin," she explained. "It's normal procedure."

"You could have warned me," I reproached her.

"There wasn't time," Dad replied. .

"But-"

"We trust you, pumpkin," said Mom, her eyes watering. "We know you'll do just fine. We all know this is merely a formality. You'll be coming home with us tonight no matter what."

"Love you," I whispered, kissing her cheek. When I turned around, Kingsley and Tonks hurriedly looked away. "You know," I said to them, "I don't need to be a Connector to know you were eavesdropping." Tonks giggled and I smiled smugly to myself, feeling a little more confident.

The room was just as white as the corridor I had just left. The chairs, the table, the walls... everything was white. I was suddenly reminded of Alcina's haven but I felt no where near as placated as I normally would have. I worried briefly for Alcina, whom I hadn't seen since the night Pettigrew escaped. Mr. Wilkins closed the door and muttered a locking charm.

"There she is!" exclaimed a stout man wearing a ridiculous lime green bowler hat. He shook my hand vigorously. "Sit down, my dear, sit down. You must have been rushed here from the Atrium. I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic," he said kindly. I wanted to see if there was any malice behind his kindness, but I remembered the anti-Magic wards in this room.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I said. "Adamina Champlain."

"Of course you are," he beamed. "Would you like anything to eat? Or to drink, perhaps?"

"No, thank you. My parents are supposed to take me out to the Leaky Cauldron after this," I replied.

"That's very kind of them," he said carefully.

"They're my parents, sir," I shrugged. "They've taken a liking to restaurants since I came back from Hogwarts. I think they missed me and now want to spoil me," I grinned nervously.

"I bet they do. Did you like Hogwarts?"

"Very much. It took a while to get used to."

"How so?"

"Well, it's a castle, for one. Big, drafty, cold... lots of hidden passages. That was easy enough to handle. I just had to wear my scarf, and sometimes my gloves."

"But isn't it cold in Canada? Surely you must have been used to it!" he laughed. I frowned at him. Something was off about the way he laughed, but I couldn't place it. Perhaps it felt forced.

"Yes, it is cold during the winter, but never inside buildings."

"I see, I see... is that all?" he pressed. Mr. Wilkins shifted on his seat. I glanced at him but he avoided my gaze. I clasped my hands together in my lap. "The only difference from Canada to Hogwarts was the cold?"

"Well, no, not really."

"Then what else? Do tell." He poured himself a cup of tea.

"Being sorted was... different. Being placed in a house and being in constant competition with other students," I hesitated. My common sense told me not to broach the subject of blood purity. "In Canada, there's no sorting, so there's this big school unity thing instead of division."

"I see... you were sorted in Gryffindor, were you not?"

"I was. Sir."

"I heard you are friends with young Harry Potter."

Something was definitely wrong here. Why on Earth was the Minister for Magic taking interest in the friends of a thirteen year old girl? And why wasn't he drinking his tea?

"I am, sir."

"Have you been on lots of little adventures with the lad?"

"I fail to see why that's important." I said guardedly. "Sir," I added.

"Yes, you would." He leaned in towards me, looking pleased with himself. "Does it bother you that you can't look inside my head?"

And there it was. I repressed the urge to sigh loudly. "To be honest, sir, no, it doesn't bother me in the least. I hardly ever use it, if at all."

He looked like he had been slapped. "Minister, perhaps it would be time for me to begin the examination?" Mr. Wilkins said timidly.

Fudge sat back into his chair and his jolly persona was gone. "Do you know why I'm here, Miss Champlain?" he articulated. Mr. Wilkins stood quietly and headed towards the door.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. "No, sir, I don't."

Tonks and Kingsley entered the room. He glanced at them before continuing. "It is to inform you that when you turn seventeen, or of age, you are to be registered and branded, just like every other Dark creature," he said sadly, although I didn't think he was even sorry for announcing this to me. Tonks gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

I paled. "Br-branded?"

"Now, Minister, is that really necessa-" began Mr. Wilkins.

"Indeed, Miss Champlain, branded, so that we at the Ministry may know where you are at all times." He stood and put that ridiculous hat back on his head. "It is, I am afraid, the fate of all creatures that chose to dabble in the Dark arts."

"But I didn't choose this!" I protested desperately. "I didn't want to be a Connector!"

"Ah, yes, well, that is irrelevant. Rules are rules and we at the Ministry make no exceptions. Mr. Wilkins, be sure to administer Veritaserum before... questioning." He glanced at my parents who were standing in the doorway and flushed.

"Minister, if I may interrupt, Veritaserum isn't allowed to be administered to an underage witch without parental consent," said Kingsley in his deep voice.

"Veritaserum? What for?" asked my mother.

Fudge fiddled with his hat, looking at the ceiling. "Ah, uh, yes, that could be a problem; I see... especially in a case such as this..." he said, flustered. "In these circumstances... might not look very good if the _Prophet_ got wind of it... Very well, then, carry on, Mr. Wilkins." He left quickly.

_Branded,_ I thought. _I'm going to be branded._ Tonks approached me slowly, putting a hand on my head. "I'm sorry you had to hear that," she said softly. Kingsley spoke quietly with Mr. Wilkins behind her

"I'm going to be branded," I said plainly. "Branded. Like common Muggle cattle." I clenched my fists. "First, this 'gift' I want nothing of, and then this- this treatment because of it!"

She kneeled down next to me. "I can't understand what you're going through, but I do know that if you're in Gryffindor, you'll find the courage to make things right."

I looked at her then, eyes wide. "Do you want to understand?" I whispered, leaning closer to her. She didn't move. "Do you want to know what it's like to never be normal, never be accepted, because of something you don't understand?"

"That part, I understand. I'm a Metamorphmagus, I know what it's like not to be normal," she said, staring straight at me. She scrunched up her nose and her bright orange hair became the same vivid lime green as Fudge's bowler hat. "You can't let it run your life. You have to embrace it as part of you, not let it destroy you. There's nothing else you can do."

I began to cry in earnest, sobbing ridiculous things, either about being branded or being unsnoggable or being treated unfairly for something I couldn't control. Dad wrapped his arms around me and carried me out of that awful room.

Once out of there, I felt different. I could feel everyone around me. My dad carrying me, Mom petting my hair... but I could _feel_ others, too. Tonks behind them, whispering to Kingsley. A petite witch staring curiously at us as we passed. I hurried to Connect with my parents for comfort.

I had never done it like this. With two people. It was odd. I could _feel_ them both there. I felt their love. And it's all I wanted. I heard them gasp softly. Dad's step faltered. I didn't care. I showed them. I showed them I loved them just as much. It was all I needed. I broke the Connection.

"Put me down, please," I said to Dad.

"Are you sure you can walk?" he worried, still shaken. It was the first time I Connected with Dad.

I nodded and he obliged. I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve. I faced the Junior Auror Tonks, a witch I had just met. Biting my lip, I approached her. "Thank you," I said to her. She beamed at me. I didn't know quite what to say next. "Could I… could I show you something?" I asked quietly.

"Sure," she answered and I Connected, watching her face. She gasped. A look of wonder passed her face. "I can feel you," she whispered. Her eyes were wide. I smiled.

"I know," I said. I showed her the warmth. The hope she had given me. I watched the tears fall. They tumbled from her bright purple eyes. "Connecting. It's not bad. It can be good. It's different. I will embrace it."

She nodded. She placed a hand on my shoulder. "I understand."

"Good." I left her mind and shook my head. I breathed in deeply. "I hope I haven't frightened you. I just... I wanted you to see," I said shyly.

"It's okay. It was actually kinda cool," she winked at me. I grinned tiredly.

"See you around," I waved, heading back to the lift where my parents were waiting for me.

"Where to, pumpkin?" asked Mom.

"I just want to go home," I yawned, gripping their hands firmly. They squeezed mine back.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: **_Here's a little Christmas present for all you readers out there. It's a bit shorter than what I'm used to, but it worked well with the chapter. Next chapter: the Quidditch World Cup! Thanks to JO, as usual._

* * *

A copy of Mr. Wilkins's report arrived a few days after the incident at the Ministry, rejecting all claims from my grandmother. Even if we had been expecting it, my family was nonetheless relieved to hear it. Mr. Wilkins had no doubt whatsoever that my parents were good parents. He did, however, advise that I see a Healer. He seemed concerned for my health as my 'physical appearance, that tends to change rather dramatically and sporadically, could be constituted as a bad case of the Spattergroits' _Spatter-what?_ I thought. Anyway, I had an appointment with a Healer on August 26th, a few days after my fourteenth birthday.

What surprised us all was the official apology from the Minister for Magic that came along with it. Or, more precisely, the tickets for the Quidditch World Cup included in the envelope. _Indeed,_ he wrote,_ I have never regretted acting so rashly and unprofessionally in my entire life, _blah blah blah,_ therefore, I wish to invite you, and your family, to sit with me in the Ministry lodge to view the Quidditch World Cup match between Bulgaria and Ireland that is to take place on..._ I skimmed over the whole letter after that, excited as I was.

"We're not going," said Mom vehemently. "How dare that bastard -don't say that word, -ever think he can buy our forgiveness?"

"But-"

"Talia, think about it," argued Dad. "We've never had the chance to see a World Cup match! And here's a perfect opportunity. Granted, it's not quite the way we thought we'd go, but we would be seated with the Weasleys, at any point."

Disgruntled, Mom agreed reluctantly. "Besides," she said at breakfast the next morning, "just because we accept the tickets, doesn't mean we have to be nice to him."

I rolled my eyes at my cereal. Dad waved his wand and two pieces of bread flew towards the toaster. They placed themselves into the two slots. "Morning," he said, kissing the top of our heads. "What are the plans for today?"

"I'm waiting for Hermione to call," I answered. "She's supposed to ask her parents about having me over this weekend."

"Oh, I don't know, Mina," said Mom, frowning.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" I said, temper rising. "You said-"

"I know I said you could go, but I think... after what happened at the Ministry..." she sighed. "I'd really rather you stay home. You can always invite her to stay here." She ran her fingers through my long hair.

"Dad?" I said, turning to him.

"I said it was your mom's decision, Mina, and if that's what she decides..." he shrugged, charming the peanut butter to layer itself on his toasts.

"No, you said you thought it was a great idea," I reminded him.

"I was supporting her decision."

The phone rang. "That's probably her," I grumbled. "Are you sure I can't go?"

"Yes," said Mom sternly. It rang again, more insistently. "Invite her here if you want."

"Fine, I will." I ran into the living room to pick up the phone, which had begun to turn red from constantly ringing. _Dad really shouldn't have played around with it,_ I thought. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mina? It's Hermione."

"Hey! I figured it was you."

"What, no one else calls?"

"Dad's off for the summer, so no one from the school calls. Ron called once, but he still doesn't have the hang of it."

"He didn't yell, did he?" she said, exasperated.

"Like I was miles away," I laughed. "Couldn't hear from my right ear for days."

I went on to tell her what had transpired during my stay at the Burrow, and at the Ministry after that. "I knew Fudge was a bit biased, but his reaction was rather blown out of proportion, wasn't it?" she reflected. "Although to be truthful, his apology is typical of a politician."

"How did you know Fudge's biased?"

"Susan Bones's mum works at the Ministry. She tells Susan loads of things you can't read in the _Prophet_," she explained. "Besides, you remember what Harry thinks about Fudge, don't you? He's not exactly the best Minister we could ask for."

"Well, I didn't expect him to be there at all, to be honest."

"Think about it, Mina, you're the first Connector in ages! And there you were, sitting idly in the Ministry, waiting for questioning. Sometimes I think you don't realize how big this is," she said.

"I like to think I'm just an ordinary person, Hermione," I said, disgruntled. "Let me live in my illusions, would you?"

"Of course," she said, amused. "Oh! Before I forget, my parents agreed to have you over this weekend."

"Yeah," I started. "Mom said I couldn't come over."

"Oh," she said, disappointed. "Why not?"

"She said something about after what happened at the Ministry, she'd rather I stay home. But you're welcome to come over here!"

"I, oh, I don't know," she said and I could imagine her biting her lip. "Especially if I'm to spend most of August at the Burrow... can I call you back after supper tonight? I'll discuss it with my parents and see if they wouldn't mind."

"Sounds good. Dad's home all the time, if your parents are wondering about supervision. Mom'll be busy with the shop and all."

"My parents will be pleased to know someone's home," she acquiesced. "How is your mum's store going?"

I glanced at the kitchen and heard the clanking of dishes and my parents' laughter. "I'm not sure," I whispered, "but I don't think it's going very well. I sneaked a look at the books, and she hasn't sold anything for weeks other than a couple vials of Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover, and diluted Bundimun secretion from the Bundimuns we found in the house last year before moving in."

"Oh dear," she replied just as quietly. "What do you suppose that means?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I really don't. If the shop closes, we'll be on Dad's salary only, but, well, we should manage, I think," I finished unsteadily. "I'm confused... it's not like Mom or Dad to keep things this big from me, so it mustn't be too big, right?"

"Sure," she answered uncertainly. "Look, I've got to do the dishes, but I'll call you around seven, alright?"

"'Kay. Talk to you soon."

"Bye!"

She hung up and I joined my parents in the kitchen. They were charming soap bubbles to fly at each other, covering them both from head to toe. Seeing me enter, they grinned wickedly. "Uh oh," I said, eyes wide.

* * *

"Well, my parents weren't very fond of the idea of a whole weekend away from home either, but they agreed to let me come over Saturday," Hermione said excitedly.

"It's better than nothing, I guess. You can see what I meant about the stars in my room!"

"And the lack of a telly," she laughed.

"That's the Muggle box with moving pictures, right? With actors and stories and stuff?"

"Exactly!"

"See? I don't need to take Muggle Studies," I said proudly.

"We should go to the cinema!" she suggested.

"The giant Muggle story box, right?"

"Yes!"

"I don't know, Hermione..."

"Please? I'm sure your dad would think it's a good idea," she pleaded.

"We can talk about it when you come over. What time will you be here, then?"

"Would 9:30 be alright? My parents have a few extra appointments this weekend."

"I think so. I should be up by then," I teased.

"I should hope so! I can't believe how late you sleep sometimes," she laughed. "See you Saturday then."

"Bye!"

As I hung up, Arianell returned from wherever she was. She landed on the arm of the sofa and extended her right leg so I could untie the parchment roll that hung there. It was addressed to Mom, but I was used to Arianell delivering everything to me first. She never let anyone else near her. I recognised the tidy handwriting as Lupin's and resisted the urge to open it myself.

"Who's that for?" asked Dad, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Mom. It's from Remus," I said.

"She's been waiting for that. Do you want to pop by the shop after lunch and give it to her?" he said.

"Might as well," I shrugged. "Were you doing dishes again?"

"Of course. See, you have to do them after every meal."

"Why isn't Bobby doing them? Actually, come to think of it, I haven't seen him in days."

"He's helping your uncle Allan renovate in Canada," grinned Dad. "He should be back by Friday, depending on magical air flight."

"I thought he hated traveling," I said.

"He does," chuckled Dad, "but we, ah, persuaded him to go. Apparently, his sister will be there."

"Which one?"

"Jinx, I think. The one who helps your aunt Andrea. I asked him to get news on everyone else while he was there."

"Is Aunt Andrea going to visit? She said she would, even if she has to bring Andrew."

"I don't think she'll come this year, Andrew has a little league Quidditch tournament and she can't get Uncle Tony and his wife to take him in."

"It's 'cause Andrew's a savage beast!"

"Yeah, he does bounce on walls."

"And he has worse table manners than Ron."

"Andrew's not that bad, pumpkin."

"I feel sorry for Ron now."

* * *

Dad grabbed my hand as a large family ran past us. "Wouldn't want to lose you in this crowd," he said, squeezing my hand. I just hoped no one I knew would be here to see me holding hands with my _dad_. How embarrassing...

I pushed the door to Mom's shop. The little bell tingled joyfully. "Mom?" I called out. The shop was empty and really quiet.

"Wow," Dad exhaled. "Business is slow today."

"Yeah," I shivered. I rubbed my arms to regain some of the summer sun's warmth. I looked around, frowning. Almost all of the pieces I had washed and waxed over Christmas vacation were still here, collecting more dust. Suddenly, Mom came stampeding down the stairs from the upstairs office.

"Pumpkin!" she said, out of breath. She kissed my cheek. "I wasn't expecting you to visit."

"She seemed bored," answered Dad as he kissed her. "And Remus wrote back."

"Oh, good. I was getting worried. I can take a lunch break in about fifteen minutes, when Vera comes back from her lunch. Why don't you take a look around, pumpkin?"

"It looks the same as the last time I came here," I answered, eyebrows raised, "about seven months ago. I've got a couple Sickles, I'm going to go look around Diagon Alley."

I reached for the door handle when Dad put his hand on my shoulder. "Not by yourself you're not. We'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch in fifteen, Talia," he said, kissing her goodbye. I stepped outside and put my sunglasses on, crossing my arms as Dad took his time to join me. He finally came outside, putting his arm around my shoulders.

"It's not like I'm a kid, Dad," I huffed.

"I know, pumpkin," he sighed. "But after the Ministry fiasco..."

"It wasn't that bad!" I exclaimed, pulling away a little. He gave me a look. "Ok, it could have gone better."

"I'll say," he laughed. "Your mom and I came close to losing you and it makes us a little… clingy."

"I noticed," I stuck my tongue out at him. "Anyway, now it means I don't have to spend my own Sickles if I want something," I grinned.

"So where are we going?"

"Ah, you'll see."

We kept walking until we reached a bright pink building. On top of the lighter pink door was a sign marked 'Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions'. Dad stopped and I tugged his arm. "You've got to be crazy if you think I'm going in there," said Dad, horror-struck.

"I'm not crazy," I smirked, aware that Dad was uncomfortable in these girl situations. I dragged him toward his possible nightmare. "I'm hoping to get something for my hair. Do you think I'd look pretty with blonder hair?"

"Uh..."

* * *

I left Madam Primpernelle's with Strengthening Solution for my hair and a handful of different coloured eye shadows. Dad left with a massive headache.

We met Mom on our way to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom greeted us happily and sat us near the window facing Charing Cross Road. Muggles walked past unaware of the building. As we ate, Mom sighed often and pushed her food around in her plate.

"What's wrong, Mom?" I frowned.

"Oh, nothing you should worry yourself about, pumpkin," she smiled tiredly. "What did you buy at Madam Primpernelle's?"

"A Strengthening Solution for my hair and a bit of makeup," I said. "I hope the solution works, my hair looks so dull at the ends." I made a sad face as I looked at the tips of my dirty blond hair.

"I hope it works too," said Dad, rubbing his temples. "Cost me two Galleons and my sanity."

"Two Galleons?" repeated Mom, incredulous. "I think I'll give it a shot too, then, to make sure it works."

"Mine!" I grinned. "Anyway, what did Mr. Lupin write?"

"He just wanted to know how the examination went, how we were doing, that sort of thing," said Mom carefully. She glanced at Dad.

"What else?" I persisted.

Dad sighed. "We had written to him to ask about the branding," he answered.

Mom glared at him. "We wanted to know if Fudge would follow through with it and his own experience with it."

"Was it... painful?" I whispered worriedly.

"For him, yes, as the paint is part silver to make sure it stays on the werewolf skin, although he didn't admit it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Remus always felt a need to downplay the injustices of his life.

"Anyway, he doubts Fudge would actually make you get one. Remus thinks Fudge just wanted to intimidate you and assess the situation, and that it's more than likely the Minister feels you are not a threat."

"So I need to stay out of Connection-related trouble."

"And any trouble at all, if you can manage it," mused Dad.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I promised Harry I'd stick by him, and trouble seems to stick to him too, so..."

Dad ruffled my hair affectionately. "Well, we're going back home," he said. "We've got some cleaning to do for Hermione's arrival Saturday. See you at supper, Talia."

"Don't forget to take out the lasagna," she said to him as she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Fold the laundry, would you, pumpkin? With Bobby gone, I'm head over heels in work."

"We'll see."

"Thank you," she said, eyebrows raised. She checked her watch. "Oh, I'm going to be late. Bye! Behave!"

"Won't!" I replied, grinning, but she was already out the door.

* * *

"Don't worry, Dr. and Dr. Granger," smiled Dad as he led Hermione's parents out. "I'll bring her home by car after the movie tonight."

Both her parents were relieved that Dad was bringing her back the Muggle way. "Oh, that's fantastic," sighed Mrs. Granger. "Not that we mind magic… but we feel so much more comfortable knowing she's getting home on something we understand."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her mom. "I understand perfectly, Dr. Granger," said Dad in his teacher-meeting-concerned-parent voice. "We can ring you when the movie is done."

"That would be wonderful!" beamed Mrs. Granger. "See you tonight, darling!"

"Be your normal perfectly behaved self," said her father as he kissed the top of her head. They left the house, Dad following them out, and I closed the door, relieved.

"Wow, your parents are hard to get rid of," I sighed.

"They're not used to letting me go so much," she said. "I never really had friends until Hogwarts. This will be the first summer I don't spend with them."

"It's kinda strange for this to be home to me," I shared. "I used to come home every day after school and now I'm gone ten months a year. Come on, I'll show you around." I motioned for her to follow me. "There's the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen," I pointed to the kitchen.

Dad entered the house. "I'm making pancakes, you girls want some?" he yelled from the entrance.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders shyly. "Did you eat breakfast?" I asked her.

"No, we didn't have time."

"'Pancakes sound good!" I shouted. "This way to the living room."

We passed the staircases and came into the living room. She looked around curiously. "I can't believe you don't have a telly," she laughed.

"We have the Wireless," I responded.

"And your fireplace is huge," she grinned. "Oh my goodness, Mina, I think your

phone is snoring!" she gasped.

"Well, what else is it supposed to do? You can't expect it to be waiting on the edge of its seat for a phone call all the time," I said. "Anyway, bathroom through that door. Let's check out my room!"

I ran up the stairs, Hermione following. "Slow down, Mina, I don't want to get lost," she breathed.

"You really can't get lost," I laughed. "Bathroom and parents' room to the right. Here, this is my room." I opened the door and plopped on my bed. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"I love your desk!" she admired.

"Mom fixed it herself," I said proudly. "Well, with magic, obviously, but it was in horrible shape when she first got it. Plus, it used to jig any time someone said 'magic'."

"Not very convenient if you're writing," she nodded, smiling.

"I'll show you the stars. Can you close the blinds, please?" I asked.

She moved towards the window. "Are those Quidditch posts in your backyard?" she said, looking down.

"Yeah, Dad helped me fix my old Comet Two-Sixty, so you can play with us this afternoon. He loves Quidditch," I said brightly.

"But this is a Muggle neighbourhood, isn't it? What if someone sees you?"

"This might look like a Muggle neighbourhood, but it's not," I said. "It's an entirely magical community. They're not very common. One of the reasons Mom wanted this house bad enough to keep it despite the Bundimun infestation. There isn't a Quidditch pitch or anything, but we can fly in our backyards."

She pulled the curtains closed and came to sit on my bed. "Is it dark enough?"

"It should be." I tapped the closest star and they all started to twinkle softly.

"Oh!" she gasped. "They're so beautiful!"

"I don't always put them on, but once in a while, it's nice to look at and just think."

"Mina! Hermione! Pancakes are ready," shouted Dad from downstairs.

With a flick of my wand, the curtains parted and the stars stopped twinkling. I looked guiltily at Hermione as she shook her head disapprovingly. "What's a tiny bit of magic?" I said sheepishly.

* * *

"I'm really, really sorry, Mr. Champlain," repeated Hermione, her face concerned. "I didn't mean to lose control of the broom!"

"For the last time, don't worry about it, Hermione," Dad said, wincing slightly as I poked a large purple bruise with my wand.

"Maybe we should have started her on my Nimbus," I commented as the bruise became a dark yellow. "It's easier to handle."

"It's the whole concept of flying," breathed Hermione, trembling. "It's just a stick! With straw bits at one end! Flying at goodness knows which speed…"

I placed a bit of wound-cleaning potion on a large gash on Dad's wand arm. It smoked and Dad yelped. "Suck it up, you big baby," I teased.

"I never get used to that potion," he hissed. "Next time, Hermione, Mina can fly with you."

"There won't be a next time, Mr. Champlain," said Hermione adamantly.

The fireplace suddenly burst into flame and out stepped Mom, looking exhausted. "I know, I know, I'm late," she sighed, dusting herself off. "Hello, Hermione."

"Hello, Mrs. Champlain."

"Hey, Mom."

"You're just in time for supper," Dad greeted her.

Mom took off her hat. "Smells delicious," she said, sniffing the air. "Girls, could you set the table please?"

Nodding, Hermione and I headed into the kitchen. I grabbed utensils and plates and handed her the glasses. We made quick work of setting the table. Mom and Dad brought the food and drinks out while we washed our hands in the kitchen sink.

"So, Hermione, I hear you've convinced Mina to go to the movies with you," said Mom as we ate.

"Surprisingly, yes," she answered. "It took a bit of pleading, but I think she's secretly excited."

"Very," I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't understand the concept of watching people pretend they're something they're not, just for the sake of entertainment."

"Well, Muggles have more extensive ways of entertainment than Wizards do," said Mom.

"Although most are boring as hell compared to magic entertainment," winked Dad.

"Compared to Quidditch, you mean," corrected Mom, smirking.

"Not only Quidditch! There's Gobstones, Exploding Snap, uh… the Wireless, too, and uh… plays, of course, but most are horrid... music, dancing and singing!" And he broke out in a loud and not too off-key version of Celestina Warbeck's 'A Cauldron of Hot, Strong Love'.

"And generally having fun with spells and charms," I shrugged when Dad finished. Hermione giggled.

Mom checked her watch. "How about we charm the dishes to do themselves for tonight?" she suggested. "We don't want to be late."

"Have you girls decided what you want to go see?" asked Dad as he spelled the dishes towards the kitchen.

"Apparently, the best option Hermione could come up with was 'The Mask'," I said.

"It's the only one that didn't have extensive violence and Muggle political plots you wouldn't understand!"

"Whatever. It better be good."

* * *

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant," I exclaimed once back in the car.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm surprised you enjoyed it, pumpkin," said Mom from the front seat. "I thought you didn't like Muggle entertainment."

"Are you kidding? Muggles have it best! I can't believe you never told me, Mom," I said, buckling up. "I mean, the part where the green faced man eats that explosive thingy, you know, at the end? Priceless. Even wizards can't do that! And the guy, he didn't even die or nothing!"

"And you, Hermione?" asked Dad as he drove out of the parking lot.

"It was… alright, I suppose," she hesitated.

I looked at her. "Didn't you like the part where he goes to see the blond woman sing and he starts dancing and singing with her out of nowhere? Or when he's being followed by the Muggle law enforcement guys and they all break out in song and dance?"

"To be perfectly honest, I found it dreadful," sighed Hermione, crossing her arms.

"Dreadful?"

"Yes! It was so far-fetched and hardly thought provoking," she huffed disapprovingly. "Just another actor doing the most ridiculous stunts on film and then pretending there's a story to go along with it."

"You're just miffed you had to keep explaining all those Muggle contraptions to me," I nudged her, grinning.

"Yes, that too," she said, attempting to hide her smile. I raised my eyebrows at her. "Oh, alright! It was rather funny at parts," she conceded.

The ride to Hermione's was filled with conversations about the impending Quidditch World Cup. While Hermione wasn't a big fan of Quidditch, she did find the idea of international Quidditch exciting.

"There will be fans from all over Europe! It will be so interesting if I could meet someone from Bulgaria, to ask them about their magic schooling," she said.

"Arthur came by the shop today," Mom said. "He reserved two lots at the camp ground. Said it was alright if we all bunked together, seeing as Harry and Hermione will be with them as well."

"Good," said Dad. "I wasn't looking forward to buying a tent for a single use."

He parked in front of a massive Victorian house. Hermione sighed, eying the house. "It doesn't look like they're home," frowned Mom.

"Wow, Hermione," I said, impressed. "Your house is huge!"

"They're home," Hermione assured my parents with a smile. "They like to spend the night out in the backyard when the sky is clear. I sometimes teach them a bit about astronomy!" She opened the door. "Thank you for everything, Mr. and Mrs. Champlain! I really enjoyed myself today."

"It was a pleasure having you over," smiled Dad. "We'll see you at the World Cup."

"Mina, don't forget Harry's birthday tomorrow!" Hermione reminded me. "Don't wait until the last minute to-"

"Have some faith," I cut her off. "I've got something picked out."

"The pictures?" she said happily.

"Yeah, and I put a bunch of wizard candy with it too."

"Splendid! See you soon!"

"Bye!"

She closed the door and my parents waited until she was let inside by her father, who waved at us, before driving home. As soon as we arrived, I raced upstairs to grab the box with the pictures of Harry's parents, already wrapped in pretty red and gold paper.

"Mom, have you seen my owl?" I yelled as I stomped down the stairs.

"Check her cage!" she answered from the kitchen.

I went into the living room to find Arianell pecking at the window. "Never mind, found her!" I let her in and patted the top of her head. "This is for Harry, alright?" I whispered softly as I tied the large package to her leg. "You remember the way, right?"

She nipped my finger a little too hard, insulted that I doubted her and yet flattered I hadn't written the address on the package. "Don't get prissy with me!" She flew off into the night with a rustle of her wings.

Mom walked in, turning on the Wireless. She sat on the brown sofa and stretched. I joined her, propping my feet up on the coffee table. I rested my head on her shoulder. "You trust me, don't you, Mom?" I asked tiredly.

She sat up straighter. "Of course I do, Mina!"

"So if anything important was happening, you would tell me?"

"Yes," she answered strongly.

I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not, but I did. "'Kay," I said, standing. "Goodnight."

"Sleep tight, pumpkin."


End file.
